


Circles and Triangles

by frostedprince



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dark Past, First Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:19:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostedprince/pseuds/frostedprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><br/>As best friends from the Circle Tower, Cullen was heartbroken when Ackley was transferred to Ostwick. The pair are reunited again years later as Inquisitor and Commander, but Cullen still lacks the courage to speak his feelings...</p>
<p>The cheerful and optimistic Ackley is unaware that contained within him, is a being of pure hatred and malevolence...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fool

**Author's Note:**

> I actually (prematurely?) ended this fic, but stumbling over the content I had planned, I felt bad for cutting it off quite abruptly, so I've decided to finish it off properly! Cheers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thank you to brilcrist for providing the artwork.

 

 

 

  
 

 

Ackley’s chest heaved as he continued forward. With every step, his breath was growing heavy as the mark on his hand crackled with energy.

 

“Are you alright?” Solas asked from beside him, with a tender hand on the shoulder.

 

Ackley nodded. “I-I’m fine,”

 

“We draw near!” Cassandra shouted.

 

Ackley looked ahead to see a blonde warrior on the battlefield. With a sword in hand, he quickly struck down one of the creatures that emerged from the rift. Soldiers were beside him, trying to quell the rest of the creatures. Yet there were far too many, and unless they were reinforced, retreat would be impending.

 

“They need aid!” came Cassandra’s voice again.

 

Ackley drew in a short breath, feeling the strength within him wither, and yet he summoned whatever remnants he had into a spell. It was only supposed to hit one of the creatures and freeze it instantly, but it felt as though someone else was directing his hand...

 

Instead of a simple ice blast, a blizzard erupted from the ether, raging across the battlefield. The creatures were frozen from the cold, allowing the soldiers the opportunity to shatter them with mighty swings of their blades.

 

Raising the mark to the sky, Ackley felt the energy of the distant rift draw to him before it sealed in a thundering shockwave. His breaths were still coming in gasps, but he felt strength slowly return to him.

 

The soldiers gave a brief cheer as the blonde warrior he’d seen earlier, turned to face him.

 

Ackley felt his breath pause as his eyes noticed the familiar features.

 

The blonde’s eyes widened, brimming with emotions, as his heart drew to a halt. His breaths came in short bursts as he stared back at the brown haired man before him.

 

“…Ackley?” He said hoarsely.

 

Both men raced to one another. Neither could contain their emotions once they met, holding one another in a tight embrace. Ackley felt Cullen’s arms wrap themselves around his frame, pressing against him tightly, unwilling to let go. The younger man did the same, as tears welled in his eyes. He had missed Cullen with every shred of his being, and being in the arms of the man he loved once more, was far too much for him to contain.

 

“I missed you so much, Cullen,” Ackley sobbed as he buried his head into the blonde’s shoulder.

 

Cullen clasped his arm’s, pushing him back gently, as their faces drew closer, their lips almost meeting...

 

“…Commander?” Cassandra interjected. It was strange to see the scarlet tinge on the Seeker’s cheeks as she stared at them in shock.

 

Cullen turned to see his soldiers watching them in curiosity.

 

“W-We need to reach the breach,” The dark haired woman continued, clearing her throat in an attempt restore her authority.

 

“Come Ackley,” Solas said, as he took the brown haired man’s hand and led him back to their party of four.

 

“Wait!” Cullen shouted.

 

“...Perhaps we can speak once this is done, Cullen,” Ackley replied, grinning in the way that would always make the blonde's heart melt.

 

“You know the Commander, kiddo?” Varric asked, once the mage approached him.

 

“He was a friend of mine from the Circle,” Ackley responded, giving Cullen another smile.

 

*******

 

“Commander?”

 

Cullen turned from his desk in Haven to see a familiar brown haired man approaching. His heart fluttered with emotions as his eyes wandered over the features that he had missed so dearly.

 

“Yes, Ackley? Do you have need of me?”

 

“I’ve uh was wondering…” Ackley started. “…Would you like to go with me to Val Royeaux?”

 

“Go with you?” Cullen blinked.

 

“It’s probably silly, but there’s a…vendor there that Vivienne recommends. I uh, have never been to a café before... I heard that it’s expensive, but they make the most delicious delicacies and I thought that perhaps… you’d wanted to come with me,” Ackley gave a rather nervous laugh in a desperate attempt to make the situation seem less awkward. “It'll be a welcoming change from the gruel we used to share at the Circle,”

 

“…I’d like that,” Cullen heard himself say.

 

“Y-You would?”

 

“I suppose I could slip away within the next few days,”

 

The wide smile of pure elation on Ackley’s face made Cullen’s heart pump fast, as he returned one of his own…

 

***

 

The Chantry of Haven shook with force, as yet another blast from Corypheus' assault landed close by.

 

“Go Cullen!” Ackley shouted.

 

“You don’t have to do this Ackley!” The blonde replied, as he felt the weight of High Chancellor Roderick sink into him.

 

“You must lead these people to safety. Don’t worry about me,”

 

“I’m not leaving you behind!”

 

Though Ackley gave a reassuring smile, the resignation his eyes spoke the truth of what was contained inside. “You make it sound like I’m going to die Cullen. I’ll be right behind you,” 

 

“You’ve always been a terrible liar Ackley…” Cullen’s voice wavered, as tears filled his eyes.

 

“I suppose you’ll have to lecture me about it when we meet again,” The brown haired man replied, his voice cracking. “…It appears that I won't be able to take you to Val Royeaux after all…I’ve never had the courage to tell you that I-”

 

The force of a blast outside shook the walls of the Chantry, halting Ackley’s words. A soldier quickly burst into the chamber, huffing in breath.

 

“Herald…the…trebuchets are under siege,”

 

“I shall be there at once,” Ackley responded, as he quickly turned to take his leave.

 

“Ackley!” Cullen called in desperation.

 

“I was the one who was poor at goodbyes, remember?” The brown haired man replied with one final smile. “Don’t change our dynamic now,”

 

***

 

Ackley trudged through the snow, feeling every part of his body ache. Though the white landscape seemed endless, something inside of him was forcing him to continue.

 

Though the wind buffeted him, the spirit inside of him burned strong, allaying any hint of cold…

 

“I’ve got him!” He heard the sound of a familiar voice, as two firm arms wrapped around him. The spirit inside of him faded, as darkness quickly came…

 

 

 

***

 

“Ask him already!” Dorian hissed, driving his elbow into Cullen’s back, trying to force the blonde out onto the open balcony of the Winter Palace. Ackley was leaning on the ledge, staring into the distance and completely unaware of the situation inside.

 

“Stop this Dorian!” Cullen snapped, as he remained firm.

 

“He’s standing right there! Ask him!”

 

“I-I’m not going to ask my closest friend to dance with me,”

 

“We both know that he’s far more than a friend to you,”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Cullen replied, feeling an unwanted heat welling in his cheeks. “I’m not going to do it,”

 

Dorian gave a relenting sigh as he put two exasperated fingers to his head.

 

“Very well then,” The Imperial responded as he strode onto the balcony, approaching the brown haired man.

 

Ackley turned to him with his usual cheer, but his eyes widened in surprise when Dorian clasped a hand over his and pulled him in close.

 

“Dorian, what are you-” Ackley started.

 

“This is from the Commander,” Dorian replied, as he slowly began to waltz with the brown haired man in time with the music.

 

“From…” Ackley repeated, before he turned to see Cullen watching him from the doorway. He beamed, before giving a light chuckle at the gesture.

 

“Thank goodness _one_ of us has the initiative,” Dorian sighed.

 

Cullen watched as his best friend danced atop the balcony, wishing that it was his arms around Ackley instead of Dorian's...

 

***

  
“Ah, Commander,” Josephine beamed when Cullen stepped into her chambers.

 

A beautiful, dark haired woman stood beside the Ambassador, dressed in alluring garbs with an attractive smile.

 

“This is Yolande,” Josephine explained. “She’s an Ambassador from Amaranthine. She wished to congratulate the Inquisition on its victory against Corypheus,"

 

“A pleasure to meet you my lady,” Cullen nodded.

 

“I’ve heard so much about you Commander,” Yolande purred, with a most wicked smile. “I didn’t realise that you’d be far more handsome in person,”

 

There was a strange, burning stare in the dark haired beauty's eyes as she reached out a hand towards Cullen, awaiting a kiss...

 

***

  
“You’ve been up here quite a while, haven’t you kiddo?” Varric asked, as he sat down beside Ackley in the deserted library.

 

“Oh…I must’ve lost track of time,” Ackley replied with a forced smile.

 

“Have you been... crying?” The dwarf asked.

 

“O-Of course not,” The mage replied, as he wiped away a stray tear. “Why would you ask me something so foolish?”

 

“Is this about Cullen and that woman?” Varric questioned. “I don’t think what they have is serious kiddo,”

 

“You don’t have to lie to me Varric…" The mage replied. "...You know Anders would use to tease me about my feelings for Cullen,” Ackley continued, as nostalgic tears brimmed in his eyes. “Now even Anders has found love, and he would always claim that he was above such things…”

 

“Yeah. Blondie’s come a long way,” The dwarf mused.

 

“...It was foolish of me wasn’t it?” Ackley said quietly. “Thinking that my closest friend could also be my love…”

 

Despite his smaller stature, Varric decided to comfort the mage by drawing him into a hug.

 

“Uh…I didn’t mean that _we_ should be romantically involved Varric,” Ackley said.

 

“WHAT?!” The dwarf cried in horror. “Look kid, that was just-”

 

He stopped when he noticed the grin Ackley had amidst the tears.

 

Both burst into mutual laughter.

 

_‘That son of a bitch,’_   Varric thought. _‘Even when he’s crying his eyes out, he still takes the time to make other people laugh,’_

 

*

 

“Have you seen the Inquisitor anywhere Varric?” Cullen questioned in concern. “I haven’t seen his presence all day,”

 

“Oh yeah, the kid was helping me with my novel,” The dwarf lied. “He’s got quite the imagination,”

 

“He'd always used to love reading,” Cullen chuckled with a loving glint in his eyes.

 

“Why are you doing this Curly?” Varric questioned.

 

“What are you speaking of?”

 

“Choosing to be with that woman when you’re clearly in love with the kid,”

 

“You shouldn’t speak of matters that you know nothing of,”

 

“Why don’t you look me in the eye, and tell me you don’t love the kid?” Varric growled.

 

Cullen gave a relenting sigh. “…I have always loved Ackley,”

 

“Then why?”

 

“I’ve never had the courage to tell him of my feelings… nor can I give him the love that he deserves,”

 

“So you think being with a woman is going to fix everything?”

 

“I cannot tell him Varric!” Cullen shouted in frustration. Though he never sought a relationship with the Ambassador of Amaranthine, there was something about the woman that kept him enthralled...

 

“Suit yourself,” The dwarf shrugged. “Just don’t kick yourself about it when someone else comes in and steals him from you,”

 

***

**Elsewhere, in Ferelden…**

 

“You’ve felt it didn’t you?” Hissed the first voice.

 

“His awakening is nigh!” the second replied.

 

“The whore did her job well. I cannot believe that a Templar could fall prey to a blood mage so easily. With the Commander leaving his heart in tatters, he will at last be vulnerable to his return,”

 

“Who would’ve thought, that the kind hearted Inquisitor once had the blood of thousands soaked on his hands?”

 

“It’s ironic isn’t it? The man who saved Thedas from the rifts, shall shortly bring about its doom…”


	2. The Magician

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ackley's past

 

 

Ackley always had somewhat of a murky past, yet he’d learned to be content with whatever little knowledge he did have of himself. He had seen many apprentices driven to blood magic simply because they resented being given up by their parents to a circular prison. Perhaps the concept of parental love escaped Ackley, for his foster mother certainly never demonstrated such affection. A witty tongue, and the ability to ensure one's survival were the only parting gifts the she gave to him. As fickle as fate often was with Ackley, it was in his preparations for the final battle against Corypheus that led him to discover the mysteries of his past...

 

*******

 

Ackley had been wary of Morrigan from the very first moment they met. It wasn't simply her alluring, enigmatic beauty that intrigued the young mage, but rather, for the very first time, he encountered a person who had impressive knowledge of the arcane. Unlike the brown haired man however, Morrigan paraded both her knowledge, and her obsession of it freely. She was also a woman who was willing to further her knowledge at any cost, even if it included betrayal. Ackley had been hesitant to allow her to drink from the Well of Sorrows, but there were no other options.

 

Despite the disparity in the way they approached magic, there was something about the dark haired beauty that seemed familiar to the mage. It was as though there was a bond between them that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was not until they reached the Altar to Mythal that Ackley learned of the ties between them…

 

As Morrigan finished her words of summoning, Ackley noticed a womanly figure emerging before them.

 

One he recognised instantly.

 

"...Mother?" The brown haired man heard himself say. Yet, perhaps what surprised him most was that he was not the only person to utter the word. The dark haired woman beside him turned to him with a look of pure shock.

 

“ _Mother_?!” Morrigan snarled. “This deceiving witch is your mother?! What manner of treachery is this?! Did you lure me here so she could claim me?!”

 

“My dear girl,” Flemeth interrupted offhandedly. “That is no way to speak to your brother,”

 

“Brother?” The dark haired woman gasped. “…H-How is that even possible. I saw no indication you were bearing child!”

 

“I didn’t give birth to him you silly girl," Flemeth sniggered. “I did however, have a hand in raising him. I may not be his birth mother, but I’m the only one he knows,”

 

“Why?” Morrigan spat back. “You are not a charitable woman, you hag. There must’ve been some agenda behind it,”

 

"Of course there was," Flemeth cackled. "Yet, you have it confused my girl. I had no benefit in raising him. It was he, rather, who benefited from my care,”

 

"What is it that you desire from him?!"

 

"A debt I had to repay. That is all I will speak of it,"

 

*******

 

His brown hair had been a trait of his mother’s, whilst his cheery smile, and the hopeful glint in his eyes had been given to him by his father.

 

It had been but a few months after his birth when rumours circulated around the court that the Bann’s son showed signs of sorcery. It was a scandal in its own right. Yet even as his very people began to dissent, the Bann still held onto his only son.

 

Flemeth came to him shortly after.

 

“Give me your son, and I will ensure his safety,” The woman offered, as they stood alone in the Bann’s chambers.

 

“If what they say is true and you are the Witch of the Wilds, it would be no better than to leave him to the wolves,” The Bann replied, pressing his child closely against his chest.

 

Flemeth cackled in laughter. “Despite whatever tales you’ve heard of me, I do not consume children. If that were the case, I could've stolen any of the strays outside these walls,"

 

“...Why are you interested in him?”

 

"Does it matter? The Templars will not spare a child who has been born with gifts at such a young age, and neither will your people. Give him to me and I shall ensure he is kept free from such harm,”

 

His father hesitated, staring in melancholy at the child sleeping soundly in his arms. Droplets of warm tears fell on the child’s head, before his father wiped them away, kissing his forehead one final time.

 

“Take care, my dear Ackley,” he whispered.

*******

 

During his youth, Ackley remembered living in a flimsy, yet homely hut amidst the marshlands. Flemeth cared for him for a few days a week before she told him she was needed elsewhere and flew away in her dragon form. Whenever she departed, his foster mother would erect a barrier around their home, hiding it from plain sight. The stew she left would always be enough for the lonely days Ackley spent by himself until her return. A lone raven would also sit idly on the roof of the hut, and ensured that Ackley remained safe and nurtured.

 

By the time Ackley reached his third birthday, he saw a pair of eyes staring back at him from the marshes. At first, he thought nothing of it, and yet as days passed, the eyes continued to watch him. Curiosity had been a trait that affected Ackley frequently, so one day, he waddled over to the marshlands. As he peeled away the long stalks of grass, Ackley found himself staring at a wolf with the most lustrous coat. Fear had not yet set in for the young boy and he simply babbled a few happy words before he ran to hug the wolf.

 

The wolf was stunned by the child’s forwardness, tensing every muscle in its being. Yet after it stared at Ackley’s jolly face, it gave the latter a playful lick of its tongue. The brown haired child fell back, before playing with his new friend.

 

Days turned to years, and the wolf would always watch over him, even as Ackley slept in his narrow bed. His four-legged friend would tell him of the most astounding stories of ancient times, where elves once ruled the world. It spoke to him of the splendour of nature, and how its very essence invoked magic.

 

At age ten however, Flemeth took him by the hand and whisked him away from their little hovel, and his only friend.

 

The Circle Tower that sat atop Lake Calenhad, loomed over the young child as their boat docked on its shores. A few strange men in iron-clad masks and purple tunics came rushing towards them.

 

“Those men will take you to your new home. Remember to be wary of the people inside,” Flemeth instructed.

 

“But why can’t I stay with you, mother?”

 

“I have taught you everything I am able. You will not experience this world for what it truly is if you continue to stay with me. You shall be as blind as a newborn nug to this world and we cannot have that. This is where you belong. This is where you shall be tested. Farewell my child,”

 

“Farewell mother,”

*******

 

“Watch out Cullen!” Ackley cried, as he veered right into the Templar. Books flew everywhere, as Ackley felt Cullen’s arms quickly wrapping themselves around his frame in an effort to keep him steady.

 

“Thanks,” Ackley smiled in cheery embarrassment.

 

“T-That’s alright,” The young, blonde Templar stammered back. Cullen withdrew the hands that clung to Ackley’s waist and turned his eyes elsewhere. “A-Are you excited for your journey to Ostwick?”

 

“I would be, if you were with me,” The brown haired man replied, causing immense uneasiness to the blonde’s expression. “Greagoir’s decided that Godric’s to be escorting me,” The mage beamed.

 

“Godric’s always been Greagoir’s favourite,” Cullen mused. “I suppose he’d want the best for the Circle’s youngest Senior Enchanter,”

 

"I still don't understand why I've been given this role," Ackley replied. "Surely its from the amount of books I've read rather than my practice of magic..."

 

"P-Perhaps that's why Godric was chosen,"

 

“I fear Godric is going to drive me insane from all his flirting. He’s going to be far worse than any road marauder,” Ackley chuckled. “So I’ve heard you’ve been chosen as one of the Templars for an upcoming Harrowing,”

 

“I haven’t been told who I’ve been assigned to yet,”

 

“I hope it’s not one of mine,” The brown haired man said with an embarrassed blush. “They’re not as…focused as Uldred’s or Wynne’s,”

 

“How did you fare in your Harrowing?”

 

“Well…I met this female apprentice when I entered the Fade. She seemed fine at first, but when I approached her, her face twisted into one of shock before she fled from me. I tried to chase her, but she kept screaming for me not to, then chose to jump to her death from one of the ledges. I didn’t encounter anything else after that. The entire testing ground was... empty. I sat there alone, thinking the Harrowing was supposed to be a test of patience. It turns out the apprentice was the demon I was supposed to face... Am I really that repulsive to women, Cullen?”

 

The blonde laughed at the mage’s words.

 

“What’s going on here?” a firm set of hands gripped Ackley’s and Cullen’s shoulder. Both men turned in bated breath to see a Templar staring back at them. His raven black hair was styled back, and his mischievous smile only added to the rugged handsomeness of his features. “You both thought I was Greagoir didn’t you?” The man asked cheekily as he removed his hands.

 

“Godric,” Cullen gave a nod of acknowledgement.

 

“Cullen,” The raven haired Templar responded with the same gesture. “So I hear you’ve been given the job of executioner. It can get quite brutal in there. Abominations are nasty pieces of work. The best way to deal with them is a swift slash to the neck. Headless abominations aren’t usually very effective,”

 

“You’ve never even had to kill anyone Godric,” Ackley pointed out.

 

“No, but that’s probably what I would’ve done,”

 

“So my head would’ve been rolling around the floor had I failed. That’s certainly good to know,”

 

“But you didn’t fail Ackley,” Godric replied as he placed a hand on the mage’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “…Hey your arms feel like stones. Have you been training with a sword behind our backs?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ackley shrugged. “Is it appropriate for a Templar to be molesting a mage he’s supposed to care for?”

 

“Inappropriate I suppose, but fun.”

 

“Godric!” Cullen cried.

 

“Lighten up Cullen,” Godric laughed, slapping the other Templar on the back. “It was just a joke,” He turned to Ackley for a moment with his eyebrows furrowed. “…Unless Ackley wouldn’t mind that sort of thing happening…?”

 

“You’re unbelievable,” Ackley said, failing to hide the massive grin on his face.

 

“Joke it is then!” Godric concluded with a cheered expression. “So why are you bothering poor Cullen here, shouldn’t you be preparing for the journey to Ostwick?”

 

“I still have a few errands to run before I finish my packing,”

 

“That explains the books,” Godric mused. “Why don’t you ask an apprentice to do it, or that new senior enchanter who’s taking over your duties?”

 

“It would make Leorah's life a lot easier if I sorted it out for her,”

 

“You deserve an honour Ackley. You could be in bed with a handsome Templar before you leave tomorrow and yet you choose to help others,”

 

“That’s me,” Ackley nodded. “The naïve mage who keeps a perverse Templar as a friend,”

 

“Hey!” Godric laughed, giving the brown haired man a playful push, shoulder to shoulder. “I’m not pre-occupied with anything at the moment, so I could lend a hand in this. Perhaps we could move on to the bed part later,”

 

The brown haired man decided it was best to ignore the Templar’s last outburst. “I’ve uh, finished sorting out the books from the lower library. These are the leftovers I was taking to the stockroom,”

 

“Great!” Godric beamed, as he picked up a handful of books. “Sounds like the perfect use of a Templar’s skills. I’ll take this first pile to Owain,”

 

The raven haired Templar balanced five or six books in his arms before sauntering across the corridor and disappearing from view.

 

“Are you and Godric…” Cullen asked once his fellow Templar departed.

 

“You keep asking me this Cullen,” Ackley chuckled. “Do you wish for Godric and I to be together?”

 

“I thought that perhaps... things might’ve changed between the two of you,”

 

“Godric enjoys the flirting. He does that with everyone,”

 

“I know,” Cullen responded. “But he seems to do it mostly with you,”

 

Cullen could see the stunned expression on Ackley's face, so he uttered a quick: “Never mind,”

 

“Cullen…” Ackley replied, once his expression regained its composure. “I almost forgot…” The brown haired mage dipped his hand into his robe pocket and pulled forth a shiny, silver trinket. “Here, I want you to have this,”

 

“Uh…thanks,” Cullen replied as Ackley handed him the trinket. It was probably elven in design. The silver had been shaped to resemble a halla, with tiny etched inscriptions at its feet.

 

“It’s a silly thing my mother gave me. It’s supposed to keep you safe,”

 

“I can’t take this then,”

 

“I insist. You’ve been the best of friends to me,” Ackley gave him the usual cheery smile that made the latter's heart melt. “I have to leave before dawn tomorrow. I wanted you to have this in case I don't get an opportunity to see you again,”

 

“T-Thank you Ackley,” Cullen stammered. “I’ll…think of you whenever I hold this,”

 

"I'm going to miss you Cullen," Ackley responded in melancholy as he pulled his friend into a hug.

 

"As I will you," Cullen replied, allowing his arms to wrap around Ackley's body. The young blonde wanted nothing more than to hold the mage in this way for eternity.

 

“Well, I should probably make sure Godric hasn’t completely destroyed the stockroom’s filing system," Ackley gave a half-smile once they pulled apart. Cullen thought he saw faint tears in the mage's eyes but it was surely a trick of the light.

 

"Goodbye Cullen.” Ackley said for the final time.

 

“Goodbye Ackley.”


	3. The Knight of Swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Arl of Amaranthine arrives at Skyhold

 

Dorian hated crowds. There was a reason he chose to master the arts of necromancy and it wasn’t to be surrounded by throngs of sweaty bodies. That wasn’t to say that he appreciated the sights and smells of rotting corpses, but at least they didn’t jab you in the stomach. Though Josephine (as always) had meticulously drafted the areas where people were to stand, no-one seemed to care, and the guards who were supposed to oversee such things were quickly overwhelmed by the women in lust for the Arl.

 

The Arl of Amaranthine would be arriving shortly and everyone wanted a view. His decision to visit Skyhold had brought much delight, especially to Dorian, since he could passively tease the Inquisitor about the latter’s past with him.

 

_"I did not know that Templars were your type Ackley,’" Dorian said with feigned innocence._

_"W-What did you say?"  
_

_"Oh, nothing..." Dorian replied. 'Merely a rumour that this Godric fellow wants to ravish you...'_

 

A particularly hard elbow jab jerked the Imperial from his thoughts.

 

The Arl’s crier was arriving, trotting across the drawbridge on his Amarantine Charger. He was quickly followed by a band of instrument bearers, who all passed by the War Council.

  

Cullen and Yolande were beside one another, with the latter’s arm snaked around the Commander’s. She had let her beautiful dark hair fall, and yet Dorian found the dress rather marring on her. It made her seemed rather cheap. Like she was a woman who was good with her hands (in the backstreets of the Red Lantern district).

 

Ackley stood a few paces away from them, with his arms crossed. He had exchanged his usual plain set of robes for a getup that made him appear vastly more regal in Dorian's eyes. He wore a white tunic that hugged his frame and his brown hair was brushed back neatly. However, whilst Ackley tried to stand with confidence, there was lingering anxiety in his eyes.

 

Dorian chuckled when he noticed that he wasn’t the only one to take interest in Ackley. Cullen was also indiscreetly sneaking glances at the brown haired lad instead of focusing on the woman beside him. Why was the Commander with this woman? It seemed so... unlike Cullen to cast aside all that undying love he had for Ackley. It pained Dorian at times to see Ackley in such misery, crying alone in places where he thought no-one was watching. The mage truly loved his Commander, and to have this woman come between them, riled the Imperial. It also pissed him off that Cullen was allowing this to happen.

 

The instrument bearers of Amaranthine interrupted this thoughts by raising their trumpets to their lips and blowing a brief tune of introduction.

 

A thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd, and Dorian felt about twenty elbows plunging into him. Groaning in pain, the Imperial stared at the dark coat of another incoming Charger. Atop the steed sat a broad shouldered man with hair as dark as a raven, contrasting well with the piercing, light shade of his eyes. The stubble on the man’s jaw and the roguish grin on his face simply added to his allure. As he neared the crowd, he gave curt, friendly nods to a few random people causing the women around Dorian to swoon at the gesture.

When the Arl's mount reached the War Council, he descended from his steed in one quick movement.

 

“Cullen Rutherford, you old bastard!” The raven haired man cried as he enveloped the blonde Commander in an embrace.

 

Cullen looked as though he had the wind knocked out of him.

 

“Godric,” Cullen coughed in curt acknowledgement. “...It’s good to see you again,”

 

“You really haven’t aged a bit have you?” Godric observed as they pulled apart. “Well, except for your facial features I suppose,”

 

This earned a guffaw from the Arl’s band of men.

 

“Yolande,” Godric acknowledged, as he turned his attention to the woman beside Cullen. “Still haven’t been able to wrangle a proposal out of Cullen yet, I see,”

 

“I pray soon mi’lord,” Yolande responded with a rather low curtsy.

 

“Knowing this one, you’ll be waiting a long time,” Godric grinned. Cullen was clearly uncomfortable with the whole ordeal, but he still managed to force a smile.

 

The Arl’s roguish grin faded once his eyes fell on Ackley.

 

“I’d heard, but I daren’t believe it,” The Arl whispered.

 

“Godric,” Ackley greeted the other man with his usual cheer. “It’s been a long time,”

 

The Arl responded by striding over to the brown haired man and enveloping him in a tight embrace. The latter faltered for a moment with a surprised expression, before his arms brought themselves around the Arl’s broad frame. Perhaps to those unaware of the friendship between the two men, their actions could be misconstrued as…intimate, especially given how tightly the Arl was holding’s Ackley’s waist…

 

When they pulled apart, the roguish, mischievous grin had returned to the Arl's visage. “When I said you should get an honour for helping people, I didn’t mean for you to become the Inquisitor of Skyhold,” He chuckled. “Who’d have thought that the boy who’d never even set foot in the Circle’s prayer room is now the Herald of Andraste,”

 

*****

 

Rain battered against the stone walls of Skyhold, a rather surprising event given the sunshine earlier in the day. However, it appeared to have little bearing on the boisterous sounds of life within. Josephine had done her best to ensure that the welcoming banquet was decorated in line with traditional, Ferelden aesthetics. Rows of tables had been set up, with wild roasted mutton and the season’s harvest on each. Swishing flasks of ale were also held in most hands.

 

Whilst Godric’s men might’ve been enjoying the festivities, both he and Ackley stood beside one another at one corner of the hall. A Dalish elf was standing before them. The latter was older than both men by at least a generation, though there was a youthful spirit in his eyes. He had tired, dirty blonde hair and the elven vallaslin inked on his forehead represented Ghilan’nain, the Mother of the halla. Ackley considered it best not to let the elf know that he knew of such things. It was strange enough, that a Dalish elf had arrived with a band of Ferelden men.

 

“This is Soren,” Godric introduced. “He is my adviser of all matters of the arcane,”

 

“Aneth ara Soren,” Ackley gave a curt nod.

 

“You speak the Dalish tongue Inquisitor?” The elf replied.

 

“That’s the extent of my knowledge I’m afraid,”

 

“Still, it is most impressive to meet a human who has spent the time to learn our ways,” The elf gave a gracious smile.

 

“Why did you leave your clan to serve this ruffian?" Ackley grinned, cocking a head to Godric.

 

“The Arl has been kind enough to build relations with the scattered clans that reside close to Amaranthine. I had been doubtful at first, but he has given us land, and a safe place of refuge. The least I can do to express my gratitude is to guide him in the ways of magic. The Arl has proven to be a most just and noble man. Perhaps the noblest of all I’ve encountered,”

 

"That's it! Be on your way now Soren, you're embarrassing me in front of the Inquisitor!" Godric ordered, a faint tinge of scarlet on his cheeks.

 

“Do excuse me sire,” Soren replied with a chuckle. “I did not mean to embarrass you in front of the object of your affections. I shall see if the horses need tending. I hope we get further opportunities to speak Inquisitor,” The elf gave a smile, and a nod of the head before he took his leave.

 

“Object of your affections?” Ackley repeated with a raised eyebrow.

 

“If you say that once more Ackley, I shall slap you with a roast mutton leg,” The raven haired man replied.

 

“That isn’t something I’d envision a man of your status ever doing,” Ackley teased.

 

“How would I know of such things?” Godric shrugged. “According to you, I bribed the Teryn with wine to acquire this position,”

 

“I’m sorry,” Ackley chuckled sheepishly. “That was far too crude of me. You know I always think highly of you Godric, irrespective of our banter,” The brown haired mage smiled with sincerity. “Besides, I thought you liked it when I teased you,”

 

“Oh I still do,” The Arl growled, biting his bottom lip seductively.

 

“Uh…”

 

“…I do have a serious question however,” Godric continued. “…When you… kissed me during the journey to Ostwick, was it because I reminded you of Cullen, or because you had feelings for me?”

 

“…What does Cullen have to do with this?” Ackley asked quietly.

 

“I’m not a fool Ackley. I know you’ve long pined for Cullen’s affections. I’m sorry that he’s no longer an option for you, but if his decision allows you and I to be together, then I cannot speak poorly of it,”

 

The mage looked away for a moment, before he drew in a deep breath and spoke again.

 

“...The reason I kissed you Godric was because I wanted to shut you up,”

 

“…What?”

 

“I got so sick of your flirting. It was the only thing that could silence you,” Ackley grinned.

 

“…I see,” Godric mused. “So if I were to relentlessly flirt with you again, would it yield the same result?”

 

*****

 

“Do at least _try_ and look like you’re enjoying yourself Commander,” came a voice from behind. Cullen looked up to see Dorian standing over him. The latter opted for the empty seat beside the blonde.

 

“…The… proceedings have been rather exhausting,” Cullen responded, clearing his throat.

 

“What happened to your lady friend?”

 

“She’s attending to our guests,”

 

“Does that mean she’s stopped chatting up those soldiers then?”

 

“She enjoys the attention,” Cullen replied, without even bothering to feign concern.

 

“Is there a reason you keep staring at the Inquisitor?” Dorian questioned.

 

“I’m concerned for him, that is all,”

 

“I didn't imply that there was anything more,” Dorian replied. “You did,”

 

“I-I didn’t. I mean. I-” The blonde gave up with a sigh, “...I just don’t wish to see him hurt at Godric’s hand,”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Godric enjoys his games. He’s always chased after Ackley, but it’s only so he could bed him. I don’t wish to see him heartbroken if Godric decides to move onto someone else the moment he’s succeeded,”

 

“So you don’t think this fellow could love Ackley?”

 

“He couldn’t possibly love Ackley!” Cullen shouted in irritation.

 

“How would you know of such things?”

 

“Because only _I_ know how to love him!”

 

“So you _do_ love Ackley then…”

 

Cullen looked away, but gave a reluctant nod.

 

“I’ve always loved him…” The blonde whispered.

 

*****

 

Ackley gave a feigned smile and a vacant nod to one of the Arl’s men recounting details of their journey to him. Godric reluctantly had to leave the mage’s side when his men called him over to demonstrate to the soldiers of Skyhold how he could drink a flask of ale faster than any challenger.

 

The brown haired man couldn’t help but stare with concern at Cullen in the distance. The Commander’s hunched form next to Dorian, and his defeated expression, worried him. He wanted nothing more than to stride across the room, put a caring hand on the blonde’s shoulder and ask him what was troubling him. Whatever it was, Ackley knew he could restore Cullen’s spirit to its usual cheer.

 

…It couldn’t be Godric's presence could it? Surely not…

 

“Your tunic is on fire Inquisitor,” Godric interrupted.

 

“WHAT?!” Ackley cried as he stared down to see a noticeable lack of flames. He shot Godric a look of non-amusement.

 

“It appears your tale has bored the Inquisitor,” Godric grinned, “You are dismissed soldier,”

 

“Yes, sir!” The soldier replied before he returned to the festivities.

 

“I’m sorry about that,” Godric said, wiping his mouth. “I don’t usually engage in such base activities. What was on your mind? Were you thinking about going to bed with me?”

 

“Can you ever stop tormenting me so?”

 

“Come to bed with me and I’ll stop,”

 

The brown haired man just sighed before he briskly walked away.

 

“Hey!” Godric called, “I said that in jest Ackley!" The Arl placed a hand on Ackley's shoulder to halt him.

 

"That’s a shame," Ackley replied with a mischievous look. "I was heading to your chambers,"

 

"W-What?" The raven haired man stammered with an expression of shock.

 

The mage burst out laughing. "Now you know how it feels to be callously flirted with,"

 

"I'm going to get you back for this, you realise?" Godric replied with a grin.

 

As his laughter faded, Ackley caught a glimpse of Cullen staring at them before the blonde turned away with melancholy in his eyes. He felt a sharp, aching pain welling in his chest as he watched his fair Commander.

 

_‘I’ve always loved you Cullen_ _,’_

Yet, he it felt as though he didn’t know what to do anymore…

*****

 

“It appears that Oryn was right,” Soren mused as he watched Ackley from a distance. “Yet he looks so innocent…”

 

“It’s a shame his heart only cares for the Commander,” Yolande yawned.

 

“You think that you have a chance with our great leader?” The elf scoffed. “Do not make me laugh, whore,”

 

“There’s no need to be so prickly Soren,” The dark haired woman scowled. "Do you think he'll remember?"

 

“His true self? The elf asserted. “In time…”

 

Yolande gave a rather wicked smile at those words. "It will be interesting to see how the Commander reacts once he learns that contained inside the man he loves, is a force more cruel and sinister then any abomination…”


	4. Temperance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ackley makes his decision

 

 

 

Rain pattered on the roof of Cullen’s chambers as he stared at the maps before him. Given the rather temperamental weather during the course of the day, the Commander had been required to consider alternate paths to Halamshiral in case a mudslide or fallen tree barred their usual path. The Inquisition had been invited to the Empress' Grand Masquerade in celebration of the union between Celene, Briala and Gaspard. The task was not difficult, but the Commander found himself constantly impeded by thoughts of Ackley and Godric. It wasn’t fair how Godric could make the brown haired mage laugh by simply uttering a few words. Nor was it fair that Godric could playfully touch Ackley, putting a careless hand on the mage’s back or squeezing a shoulder as if it meant nothing. Cullen wished he had to the courage to do such things, to confess to Ackley just how much he loved him, but it was futile. Godric was here. He was the wittier, the more handsome and the better Templar, there would be no reason for Ackley to choose anyone else...

 

A series of sharp raps came from his door. With a sigh, the blonde left his papers and approached the entryway. It was probably one of the new recruits. He had a few approach him earlier in the day, asking him what was to be done in the castle during his absence. The Commander opened his door, ready to scold the forgetful recruit but instead, found a brown haired young mage standing before him in the rain. The sight caused his heart to flutter. Ackley's tunic had been soaked from the rain, having turned transparent from the liquid and his brown hair had turned dark as it stuck to his head.

 

“Ackley,” Cullen heard himself say hoarsely. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I was wondering whether I could come in for a moment Commander,”

 

“Of course,” Cullen replied, as he quickly moved to one side, allowing Ackley entry. He shut the door behind him, before retrieving a cloth for the mage to dry himself.

 

"Here," Cullen said tenderly, as he handed Ackley the cloth.

 

"Thanks," Ackley smiled in appreciation.

 

“Is there something you wish to speak to me about?” The Commander asked.

 

“...I’m trying to avoid Godric and his men,”

 

“He enjoys your company,” Cullen replied, selecting his words carefully.

 

“I don’t mean to say I don’t enjoy his company or that of his men, but given that we leave for Halamshiral in the morning...”

 

“Did you wish for me to speak with him?”

 

“Well…” Ackley scratched his head, carefully thinking about his words. “I thought that perhaps I might be able to spend the night with you,”

 

“…With me?” Cullen blinked.

 

“It’ll be just like old times Cullen,”

 

It was true. During their time at the Circle, whenever Ackley had to escape Godric or a lovesick student's pursuit, he'd stay the night in Cullen's chambers. Beval, the Templar to whom Cullen shared his quarters, was often away anyway, sleeping in another part of the castle to avoid Cullen's infrequent sleep-talking. Given how demure the blonde was, the senior Templars never checked his quarters, so he and Ackley would lay beside one another, quietly enjoying each other’s presence until the night drifted by and both men fell asleep.

 

“So what do you say Commander?” Ackley’s voice rang.

 

Cullen looked at Ackley. It was impossible to say no to that face.

 

“Sure…” Cullen replied. His heart clearly had a mind of its own. “...So is Godric driving you mad again?”

 

Ackley chuckled at the question. "It has been a while, but I do enjoy his presence. His humour still hasn’t changed however,”

 

“Is he still trying to bed you?”

 

“It’s…difficult to tell whether he means it or not,”

 

“Do you…have affection for him?”

 

“It seems as though you ask me this whenever I am near him,” The brown haired mage smiled, before his expression became subdued. “…Do you have affection for Yolande?” He asked, barely above a whisper.

 

“I..."

 

The younger man turned away.

 

"I'm sorry, it was foolish for me to impede upon you like this. Surely she is expecting you for the evening,"

 

Ackley strode towards the door, but Cullen was faster.

 

“Ackley, wait,” Cullen replied, forcing the door shut with the strength of his hand. “…I feel nothing for her. She doesn't mean anything to me,”

 

“So you aren’t going to bed her tonight then?” Ackley responded with his usual cheer.

 

“I don’t think so. Not with you in my bed,” Cullen smiled.

 

“You sure are direct, Commander,” The brown haired mage replied playfully.

 

Cullen realised his suggestive choice of words and felt his cheeks turn hot.

 

“You know what I meant Ackley,”

 

“Do I?”

 

“I can still throw you out into the rain,”

 

“Hey!”

 

Cullen smiled at their banter. “Go on then. The bed’s yours,”

 

“Thanks Cullen,” Ackley beamed.

 

Cullen swore that if the brown haired man didn’t stop smiling like that, he would just have his way with him right then and there. The Commander would wrestle Ackley to the floor, before capturing his lips in a sweet, passionate kiss. The mage would moan loudly as Cullen would move down to his neckline, savouring each part of Ackley’s-

 

“Uh…” Ackley interrupted. “Where are you going to sleep?”

 

“Huh? Oh. Uh...I’ve fallen asleep on my desk before. I’m sure I could probably do it again,”

 

“Are you joking?” Ackley replied.

 

“What?”

 

“We’ve shared a bed in the Circle before Cullen. This one is far more spacious than the one in your old quarters,”

 

_‘But I actually had some control over myself that time,’_ Cullen thought to himself. One look at Ackley’s face however, and whatever will he had left completely crumbled.

 

“Fine,” He sighed. “Just let me get changed.”

 

Cullen ducked behind his dressing screen. He removed his clothes and slipped on a plain sleeping tunic.

 

"Your clothes must be soaked Ackley, do you want one of my tunics?" Cullen called from behind the screen.

 

"If you have one at hand," The brown haired mage called back.

 

The blonde threw a spare tunic over the screen to the man on the other side.

 

When Cullen finally stepped out from behind the panel, he found Ackley adjusting the fit of his clothes before the mage turned to him with his usual cheery smile.

 

Cullen didn't say anything, but watched as Ackley slipped under the covers of his bed before he followed.

 

They laid there beside one another as they did so many years ago in the Circle.

 

“You know what I find humorous Cullen?” The Commander heard Ackley’s voice say. “Despite Godric’s jests about bedding me, I’ve always ended up in your bed,”

 

"...You didn't answer my question though Ackley,"

 

“What?”

 

“...Do you have feelings for him?”

 

"I have thought about it, but there someone else who's captured my heart,"

 

“Someone else?”

 

“This foolish Templar, who never seemed to get the hint. The fact that I’d deliberately fell into his arms and slept in his bed a few times didn’t seem to mean anything to him.”

 

Cullen felt a sense of utter joy course through his body at Ackley's admission. The blonde could feel movement, before he felt Ackley’s warm body shift closer to him. He felt the heat of the young mage as his torso made contact against his. They stared at one another, their heads on Cullen's pillows as their lips remained ever so close.

 

“Cullen…” Ackley said softly. “I don’t know how much more of this I can bear. My heart feels like it’s about to burst… I've tried to tell myself that there's nothing between us, but I can't seem to bury my feelings for you..." The brown haired man looked as though he was on the verge of tears. "I have waited an eternity. Hoping that you'd feel the same way for me, as I did you, I-”

 

Cullen interrupted Ackley's rambling by capturing the younger man's lips with his own. The blonde kissed the young mage passionately, savouring every bit of Ackley’s soft, tender lips. Cullen wrapped his arms around Ackley tightly as if to protect him from the world, that nothing would ever hurt him with his Commander present. The heat from their bodies surged, as Cullen forced himself on top of the young mage, their lips still locked together. When they finally broke apart, each man was gasping for breath, yet their eyes never left one another’s.

 

“I love you Ackley,” Cullen whispered, his eyes squaring fixed on his mage’s. The smile, of utter elation on Ackley’s face made his heart sing.

  
"I love you too Cullen,” Ackley smiled, before the blonde quickly re-captured his lips again. This time, he felt busy hands trying to removes his clothes. Their tongues danced in each other’s mouths as they undressed. Ackley moaned when he felt Cullen’s hands wander over his naked skin. The young mage held on to the blonde tightly as they deepened their kiss. Deciding to take some initiative, Ackley broke off the kiss and pushed Cullen on his back, earning a surprised 'Hey!' from the blonde. The brown haired mage kissed every part of Cullen, from his collar to his stomach, eliciting a groan from the Commander. When he finally reach Cullen’s hardened shaft, he licked it from base to tip at first, before he took the blonde’s entire cock into his mouth. Ackley wanted badly to show Cullen how much he’d loved his Commander, so he tongue ravished the skin of the Commander’s cock, whilst his head bobbed up and down the shaft in rhythmic motion.

 

Cullen was in pure ecstasy, eliciting groan after groan of pleasure as the only person he’d ever loved was now busy pleasuring his cock. The blonde lifted Ackley back to him, and gave the mage a loving kiss, earning a stifled moan from the younger man. His strong hand worked its way to Ackley’s cock, and gripped it firmly. Cullen slowly tugged the shaft at first, before he sped up the pace, their lips locked tightly together. Ackley couldn’t take Cullen’s firm touch for much longer so he also reached for the Commander’s cock, and began to jerk the shaft in a similar, rhythmic fashion. Their kiss broke, but the intensity of their eyes as they stared desperately at one another couldn’t be broken. Both men came at the same time, spilling their seeds on one another.

 

Cullen couldn’t stop the feeling of utter elation as he tried the catch his breath. Ackley wiped away the men’s seed from their bodies with one of their tunics before returning to the blonde's warm embrace. Cullen pulled Ackley closer to him, never wanting to ever let his fair mage go, as they stared intently at one another.

 

“And here I was thinking I was being gallant when I didn’t try to ravish you in my bed at the Circle,” Cullen chuckled.

 

“That was exactly what I wanted,” Ackley laughed. “I can’t believe you couldn’t take the hint Cullen!”

 

"I’m sorry. I thought you'd always wanted Godric,"

 

"Now that I've had time to consider, perhaps Godric is the more appropriate choice," Ackley teased playfully.

 

"Hey!"

 

"I said I love you didn't I?"

 

"Fine," Cullen grinned, unable to contain his present state of joy. "I'll let you off this time mage-boy."

 

"Me?" Ackley chortled. "What about you? I should be kicking your ass for making me think you were in a relationship with somebody else,"

 

"I didn't anticipate that you were the jealous type Ackley," Cullen smiled. "Still, I think my actions are justified given the amount of lovers you've had,"

 

"What lovers?!"

 

"You know, Godric, Jowan-"

 

"Jowan?!"

 

"I caught him sneaking off a couple of times during patrol, and I figured since you were his Senior Enchanter and all..."

 

"That I was sleeping with him?"

 

"It made sense at the time,"

 

"So the fact that he was a blood mage and trying to run away with a chantry maiden doesn't dispel any of your belief?"

 

"What about Anders?"

 

"What _about_ Anders? He was too busy trying to escape the Circle to allow anyone the time of day,"

 

"So you're saying that the only person you've loved this whole time was me?"

 

"Yes! Is that so difficult to comprehend?"

 

"I knew that Ackley," Cullen grinned playfully. "I just said those things get back at you for saying Godric was the better choice."

 

"You bastard!" Ackley cried before Cullen pulled him close for another kiss. The brown haired man couldn't help but smile once they broke apart.

 

They held each other in that way, with Ackley’s head resting against Cullen’s shoulder as the Commander’s arms were wrapped around him, before both drifted to sleep.

 


	5. The Seven of Cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of the Grand Masquerade: Ackley is dismayed when he learns that he must find his 'true love' amongst the suitors of the Empress' masked ball.

 

 

 

Ackley was one of the few people who knew of the frail ties that bounded Celene, Gaspard and Briala together, so perhaps only he saw the irony of it all. A masquerade in celebration of an unstable triumvirate founded upon blackmail? Only in Orlais would they dare be so ironic.

 

_"But the guests of the Palace tend to don masks irrespective of the occasion, so what exactly would be the difference?" Ackley had asked his War Council upon news of their invitation._

_Leliana gave Ackley a smile as though he was an adorable newborn baby who was naive about the world._

_"The masquerade isn't simply about a mask, Inquisitor, it is about the persona. It entails adopting another identity and displaying that through your choice of outfit,"_

 

To unnecessarily complicate things even further, the rules of the ball stated that the guests were not allowed to speak to one another about their chosen persona. Ackley supposed it was to add to the sense of mystery and illusion to the evening.

 

The instructions stated that upon arrival, the guests would change into their personas in one of the Palace's exterior dressing chambers. They would then be given a random point of entry into the Grand Ballroom in which the masquerade would be taking place. This way, it would be impossible to determine who anyone was.

 

Ackley found the women of the castle to be rather austere about the rules. Josephine simply blushed at him and mumbled a few words about being immensely preoccupied. Vivienne had also insisted that Ackley find his own outfit instead of seeking her advice. The brown haired mage had half-jested about wearing his old Circle robes but the cold, leering stare of the enchantress quickly convinced him otherwise.

 

Deciding he couldn’t procrastinate any longer, the mage decided to visit Val Royeaux on the eve of the Arl of Amaranthine’s imminent arrival. Desperate times called for desperate measures, so collecting whatever coinage he'd managed to save, the young mage entered the exquisite (and expensive) _Boutique de Masquer Exquis_.

 

*****

 

“You ‘av somewhat broad shoulders monsieur,” the storekeeper commented briskly, as she measured his proportions with a long strand of yellow measuring tape.

 

“…Thank you?” Ackley replied.

 

“It is a shame that the masquerade requires you to ‘ide your face. You must’ve broken a lot of ‘earts with such features,” The tinge of scarlet on Ackley’s cheek made her retract the comment however. “…or perhaps not. It is rare to find a gentleman that is so…‘umble,”

 

“I’m not from Orlais if that helps?”

 

The woman chortled at Ackley's words. “Such wit monsieur. Surely you must 'ave a special person in your life,”

 

“It's more of a tale where the hero is doomed to a life of one-sided love,” Ackley sighed.

 

“Oh? You are infatuated with another monsieur?” The storekeeper questioned. “Surely whomever it is, must return your affections. It would be a most 'einous crime not to!”

 

“I’d always thought he was shy about such things...” The brown haired mage replied, smiling sadly at his memories. “…Though it appears that I've been mistaken. Perhaps I saw only what my heart wished for me to see… I've sought to bury these feelings and move on, but I cannot...”

 

“Do not look so dejected monsieur,” The storekeeper said tenderly. “I can ‘elp you in this matter.” She tapped him on the shoulder, letting him know that the measuring was done. “I shall have to sew this particular garb myself, but it should be ready for you in four ‘ours, monsieur,”

 

“But you haven’t even told me what persona I shall be,” Ackley pointed out.

 

"You've given me the task to 'elp you find a suitable persona monsieur. 'ave trust that I 'ave done this,"

 

*******

 

Ackley tried his best to re-create the outfit in the way the storekeeper had dressed him. A bone white, chevalier shirt hugged his frame whilst a loose, dim blue doublet lay on top. The brown haired mage was slightly uneasy at the fact that since neither the shirt nor doublet laced up all the way, he was showing far more chest than he wanted. Despite this suggestive hint of flesh, Ackley’s mask gave the illusion that the top half of his face had been encased in dark ice. Thus, whatever sexuality his body may be emitting was now balanced by the aloofness of his face.

 

As Ackley studied his features, his thoughts momentarily turned to Cullen. The last he'd interacted with his Commander was before dawn on the day they left for Halamshiral. Cullen had pinned Ackley against the door of his chambers where he gave the mage a farewell kiss before the latter departed. Although they traveled as part of a single group, Cullen lead from the front, whilst Ackley remained with the guests of Skyhold at the back. Still, even when they made camp, Ackley was crestfallen when his Commander chose to camp with the scouts. The brown haired man noticed the glances the blonde would give him from the distance, and yet whenever he looked at Cullen, the latter quickly turned away.

 

Ackley wondered whether Cullen really meant his words of love or whether their night together was simply an indiscretion to the Commander. ' _Why would he keep his distance if he loved me?'_ His chest ached at the thought, and yet, he had to push those feelings aside for a task lay ahead. The Game required him to maintain a face that wasn't burdened with emotions.

 

As Ackley exited the dressing chamber, a Palace guard stared at him in shock before stuttering directions to one of the random entry points. A small crowd had already gathered outside the doors to the Grand Ballroom, and heads quickly turned to the approaching brown haired masked man. A couple of women blushed brightly when Ackley caught their lingering stares. A brawny man beside them, in the guise of a bull, was licking his lips in what Ackley could only describe as sexual anticipation. The mage shivered at the thought. A lay sister of the Chantry was standing away from the crowd by her lonesome, so Ackley considered it the safest option to wait with her until they were called into the ballroom.

 

“Greetings sister,” Ackley smiled as he approached.

 

As the woman directed her attention to him, the brown haired young mage observed the locks of red hair tied elegantly behind her and the lustrous painted lips of crimson. A mask of a weeping martyr did obscure the upper portion of her face, and yet her eyes seemed so familiar... as was that shade of red hair...

 

“Leliana!?”

 

The lay sister chuckled at being identified. “Do you like my choice of persona, Inquisitor?”

 

"...I uh…shall never see lay sisters in the same light again," Ackley managed to say.

 

"That’s what I was going for," Leliana smiled only briefly, her expression faltering when she surveyed Ackley's frame. "You've...um…clearly made a bold choice yourself,"

 

“Personally, I’d say he looks rather dashing,” came a suave, male voice.

 

The man that approached them had a plain shirt, with a white doublet atop, imitating sleek stone. The mask that he wore also bore the same design, indicating that he was a majestic statue, having been brought to life.

 

"Dorian!" Ackley cried, recognising the moustache instantly. "You look… _well_!”

 

“Did you expect anything else?” Dorian replied with a friendly grin. “You don’t look too poorly yourself Ackley. You've pulled off the part of the seducer far better than expected,”

 

"You've spent time with Godric haven't you?" Ackley sighed.

 

"Do not worry Ackley, it’s evident that you have enough lovers to contend with,” Dorian chuckled. “I won’t be throwing my weight in...unless I have a few too many drinks of course. Who knows what I might do then?"

 

“Dorian!”

 

"I'm surprised you chose that persona if you do not welcome such… compliments Inquisitor,” Leliana pointed out.

 

“…Did you just imply that Ackley was a whore?” Dorian asked.

  

"No, Dorian," Leliana chortled. "Far from it actually. If I'm not mistaken, Ackley's persona is the Ice King,"

 

"Ice King?" Ackley repeated.

 

"Some say he's a figure in history. Others say that he's an allegory about love. But they all speak of him as a king of whom many fell for. His status and allure led many to his castle in the hope that they would be selected as his suitor. But the king shunned them all. Some say that it was because he could not find a kindred spirit amongst the suitors, whilst other insist it was because he lost a love so dear to him, that it made him frigid to all advances. Whatever it was, the king's heart grew colder with each passing day until his very kingdom became as bleak and desolate as his soul. In Orlais, they say that his one true love will eventually find him, where the warmth of their love will melt the frozen chambers of his heart and restore his kingdom to its former glory,"

 

"That was quite the powerful tale," Dorian commented in awe.

 

"It's one the few Orlesian stories where none of the characters dies in the end," Leliana beamed. "It has however, affected Orlesian tradition. Especially during masquerades such as this. They say that if you select the King's persona, it means that you are seeking suitors. Which is why it is quite...rare to see anyone dress as the King,"

 

“What?!” Ackley cried.

 

"You did not know this?" The Spymaster responded with a bemused look.

 

"No! I just asked the storekeeper to pick the most appropriate persona for me,"

 

"Perhaps she did you a favour then," Leliana grinned. "I'll be surprised if you aren't inundated by at least fifty suitors,"

 

"Surely you're jesting Leliana," Ackley groaned. "I can't find a lover during this ball!"

 

"I'm afraid you have to," The lay sister shrugged. "The rules dictate that if you are unable to find your true love amongst the suitors at the end of the ball, you shall bring forth misfortune upon the land as the King himself once did. I assure you, no-one in Orlais would want to associate with you after that, even if you are the Inquisitor,"

 

"It's a good thing you're not too bad to look at," Dorian reassured.

 

"Can I flee from here before anyone else sees me?" Ackley asked in exasperation.

 

"Don't fret Ackley," Leliana chuckled. "Any one of us could pretend to be your love at the end of the ball. It's just a silly tradition."

  

"Can one of you kill me at this moment so I can be spared from this humiliation?" Ackley requested.

 

“Oh no. This is far too much fun to pass up Ackley,” Dorian replied with a grin. “I’ve got a sovereign that the Arl of Amaranthine is going to be the one ‘burning away that frozen heart’,’”

 

Leliana mused at Dorian's words. “You’re on Dorian. A sovereign says that Ackley will be in Cullen’s arms at the end of the ball,”

 

Ackley leaned against a wall and sighed as his two friends bickered over the merits of Godric and Cullen.

 


	6. The Knight of Cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the Grand Masquerade: The Masquerade is underway. Gaspard and Briala have interesting propositions for Ackley

 

Ackley found the ball a visual masterpiece. All sorts of strange and exotic personas flittered about the hall. The lay sister at his side had to take her leave from him as her agents sought to speak with her. Ackley couldn’t even utter a reply, for he was instantly besieged by a throng of masked strangers eager for his attention. It was a blur of false smiles and polite nods of the heads on Ackley’s behalf as he tried to listen to whatever story the person in front of him was presenting. The daughter of a Cabinet minister in a beautiful, white horned halla mask proved quite pleasant, and one of the few that didn’t giggle at Ackley or imply imminent sex.

 

She curtsied again before departing.

 

“You seem rather swayed by her Ackley,” Dorian commented from beside him.

 

“Why don’t I simply choose _you_ Dorian and have this entire matter resolved?” Ackley asked in sarcasm.

 

“I wouldn’t be one to complain,” Dorian shrugged. “But surely the Arl’s a better choice. He's witty, charming, and I do have a sovereign placed upon him…err…Perhaps I should keep you away from Cullen for the rest of the evening,”

 

Ackley put a hand to his head in exasperation.

 

“You appear troubled Inquisitor,” said a thick, masculine, Orlesian voice. “Perhaps the masquerade is not to your pleasure?”

 

Duke Gaspard stood before him like a mountain lion. Quite literally. The shorter Briala was also by his side, in garbs that bore the same colours as the rare Crystal Grace. The outfit spoke more of the style of Empress Celene than the petite elf in front of him, but given their history, Ackley wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d chosen it for her.

 

“Gaspard. Briala.” Ackley replied in acknowledgement. “It’s good to see you both,”

 

“You look exhausted Inquisitor,” Briala pointed out. “It must not be easy finding a suitable suitor in a sea of masked strangers,”

 

“Perhaps I can assist you,” Gaspard responded, before clearing his throat as if to readying himself to speak important news. “The nights at Halamshiral grow… lonesome at times Inquisitor. If you seek a companion, then my chambers will be open to you. I can teach you things that only a man of Orlesian service would know,”

 

Ackley’s face fell in horror.

 

Briala glared at Gaspard. “Perhaps. But the soft, delicate touches of an elven woman who’s pleasured the Empress, is far more gratifying than any rough encounter that Duke Gaspard proposes,”

 

Dorian simply burst out laughing.

 

Ackley tried to give a polite, yet embarrassed laugh as well.

 

Briala stared questionably at Dorian uncontrollable laughter before eliciting a sigh. "It appears that you and the company you keep are much too shrewd to fall for our parlour games,"

 

Ackley didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

 

“Perhaps you underestimate my abilities in The Game,” Ackley retorted, trying to sound confident, by folding his arms across his chest.

 

“I will not make that mistake again Inquisitor,” Briala beamed. “The Duke and I will be in the Great Hall if you need to speak with us about any matters of concern you have,”

 

“Of course,” Ackley nodded, still feigning that air of authority to the best degree possible.

 

As the Duke and elf duo took their leave, Dorian turned to the brown haired young mage with a grin.

 

“You thought they were serious, didn't you Ackley?” The Imperial chortled.

 

Ackley sighed in response, wondering why he even bothered leaving Skyhold.

 

*****

 

"I'm apologise, but the Inquisitor needs some time to mull things over," Dorian told the queue of suitors. "He shall return once he’s cleared his head,"

 

The groans of disappointment filled Ackley's ears as he and Dorian exited the Grand Ballroom and into the Guest Wing.

 

"Thank you Dorian," Ackley gave a sigh of relief. "It was growing quite weary in there,"

 

"Perhaps I should be the one to thank him," A masculine voice interrupted. It belonged to a raven haired man who stood with his arms crossed, shoulders leant against a wall. His mask shone with lustrous gold etchings, whilst his similar shaded doublet resembled the garbs of the colossal statues decorating the depths of Orzammar. The dark stubble and the roguish smile instantly identified him to Ackley however.

 

"Godric?" Ackley said aloud.

 

"I believe I saw a glimpse of my mother in the other chamber, excuse me Ackley," Dorian uttered as he took his leave.

 

The Imperial was already out of the hallway by the time Ackley could even manage a cry of protest.

  

"...This was your doing wasn't it?" Ackley questioned, once he turned to the raven haired man. The two were now alone in the deserted hallway.

 

"You would accuse me of such tactics Ackley?" Godric responded, raising an eyebrow and giving the younger man a most seductive look.

 

"It wouldn't be the first time." The brown haired mage replied.

 

"I hardly think this is comparable,"

 

"Surely you see the irony in your persona, Godric,"

 

"Paragons do not always have to be noble, Ackley,"

 

"I suppose that's true,"

 

"Good, because my intentions at the moment are far from it," Godric grinned mischievously as he strode towards the younger man. The Arl didn't stop his advances when he stood in front of him however, and quickly pinned Ackley against the wall with the weight of his body.

 

"T-This isn't a good time for your jokes Godric," Ackley stammered, as he felt the heat of the Arl's body radiating onto his.

 

"Whoever said anything about jokes?" Godric whispered teasingly.

 

"We shouldn't do this..."

 

"Why? Afraid that someone will see us?"

 

"Please Godric," Ackley pleaded, tearing away from the Arl's burning stare. "...This isn't a game. We're not in the Circle anymore. I'm not another mage that you can lure to bed,"

 

"...Is that what you think of me?" The Arl sounded wounded from Ackley's words.

 

"...I-Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

 

Ackley reluctantly turned back to face the raven haired Arl.

 

"No Ackley," Godric responded. “You mean far more to me than that…”

 

The Arl leant in as Ackley felt the brush of his stubble. Their lips were so close...

 

"Inqusitor!" A female voice sharply interrupted.

 

Godric faltered. They'd been so intensely focused on one another that neither had noticed the red-haired lay sister standing by the entry of the hall.

 

The Arl clearly was reluctant to move, but after a brief pause, the raven haired man gave in and took a step backwards, freeing Ackley from his hold.

 

The Spymaster hastily grabbed Ackley's arm, muttering a "Good eve, Arl Goric," before dragging the brown haired man out the chambers and into the Halls of Heroes adjacent.

 

“Hey!” Ackley cried in surprise.

 

“You didn’t kiss him did you, Ackley?”

 

“No,”

 

“Good,” The Spymaster replied with a sigh of relief.

 

“Seriously Leliana?! It’s one sovereign,”

 

"It's not about that Ackley. I'm simply concerned that you are being too... brash with your decision,"

 

“Why do you care?” Ackley frowned, crossing his arms.

 

Leliena blushed. “I…well uh, I’ve been brushed by the same type of love before, and it's not something that I wish to see extinguished. Josie and I have always noticed the way you and Commander Cullen look at one another. I know he might be restrained in his display of affections, but I assure you, he does care quite a lot for you,”

 

“…It’s been difficult for me to gauge the feelings he has for me,” Ackley sighed. “I don’t know whether he loves me, or whether I am just a friend to him…”

 

“You don’t see what Josie and I see, Ackley,” The Spymaster reasoned. “He worries about you the moment you aren’t present. We see it in his eyes. Yet, whenever you are, he cannot keep his eyes off you. I’ve also seen his sadness firsthand, when he sees other men and women who have an interest in you. He feared you would fall for a Grey Warden at one stage, simply because you were in his presence. I know he loves you Ackley,”

 

“…I wish that were true Leliana,” The brown haired mage replied. “...I’ve loved him far longer than even before I became the Inquisitor,”

 

“Then I pray that he shall find you before the course of this evening is over,” The red headed lay sister smiled. "I did not come only to speak of your love affairs however. My agents have reported a suspicious character wandering about the halls,"


	7. The Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of the Grand Masquerade: Ackley and Dorian battle a blood mage, before Ackley finally finds his 'true love' amidst the suitors

 

“Why are we here exactly?” Dorian questioned as he and Ackley wandered into the Grand Library.

 

“Leliana’s agents spoke of a suspicious character who came by this way," Ackley replied.

 

"So instead of investigating it themselves, we're brought to the fore. This seems rather menial..." Dorian mused. "...This this isn't some poor excuse to get away from your suitors is it Ackley?"

 

"Well..." The brown haired man started with a nervous laugh. "I thought that since we're already in the vicinity..."

 

"So were our agents Ackley," Dorian pointed out without any hint of amusement.

 

"Alright," The younger man sighed. "You've caught me,"

 

"I won't rub salt into your wounds if you share your sordid details regarding your courting session with the Arl,"

 

"How exactly did Godric manage to sway you Dorian?"

 

"I'm a betting man Ackley," Dorian replied. "I chose the Arl because he seemed the most likely to- _is that blood_?!"

 

A gory, crimson stain soaked the wall. A bloodied handprint lay beside it, with droplets of dried blood trailing to the stairwell ahead.

 

They hurried to the top of the stairs where a sorry sight awaited them. The corpse of a servant lay sprawled on the floor. The upper torso was split open, with gory bits of flesh handing loose on the bone.

 

“…Who could do this?” Dorian asked, barely above a whisper.

 

“It appears that whoever did this took his heart,” Ackley pointed out.

 

“...They say, in Tevinter, that the physical heart of the person can act as a guide of some sort," Dorian explained. "But that practice has long been forgotten..."

 

“The trail of blood leads ahead. The killer must be carrying the heart," Ackley observed, before he turned to his friend. "I need you to go back to the Grand Ballroom Dorian. Tell Leliana of what we’ve found here,”

 

“Have you gone mad?!” Dorian cried. “I’m not abandoning you to some deranged elf-killing murderer!”

 

“I’ll be fine,”

 

“I would think so, because I’m not going back. I’m staying with you,”

 

“Dorian, you could get killed,”

 

“The last time I checked, you were just as vulnerable as I, Ackley,”

 

“I don't wish to see you harmed,”

 

"My, aren't I the dainty damsel?" Dorian rolled his eyes. "Come now Ackley, you need me _someone_ to ensure you get back to your suitors safely,"

 

Ackley sighed before giving his friend a grateful smile. “Just…if something happens to me, I need you to run,”

 

“Likewise, Ackley,”

 

*****

 

The trail of gore led them to a chamber where the door stood ajar. Ackley gave Dorian a nod before he pushed opened the door, drawing a chilly barrier around himself. A single candelabra lit the room. It was a small treasury chamber, with only one cheap wooden table and two chests. One however, had been tipped over, and the gold and silver contents had spilled forth onto the floor.

 

A tall, lanky man stood before it. The equine mask that hung loosely around his neck indicated that he had been a guest of the ball. His tanned skin and neatly brushed black hair told Ackley that he probably hailed from Tevinter. In one hand, as predicted, was a gory heart which had dripped a pool of scarlet on the floor. The man look startled when he noticed the brown haired mage staring at him.

 

Ackley steadied the barrier, awaiting the advent of a spell.

 

Yet none came.

 

Instead, the stranger fell on one knee, his head bowed before the mage.

 

“P-Please your liege. I implore you, do not kill me, I-I am but a servant of yours,”

 

“Your liege?” Ackley repeated.

 

“I-I have found your relic milord,” The man stuttered. “I hope that with it, you shall finally r-return to us,”

 

The brown haired man noticed a silver ornate blade in the Imperial’s other hand.

 

“...What do you mean, return to you?”

 

“T-They hid the f-fragment of your m-memories here, but we now h-have your d-dagger, we can s-stir y-you from your s-slumber,"

 

“You murdered an innocent elf you lunatic!” Dorian shouted.

 

“You dare speak in front of my liege out of turn?” The stranger snarled, any hint of nervousness vanishing. “You shall pay for your insolence!”

 

The man raised a hand, but Dorian was quicker. The stranger flew back as if he had been hit by an invisible force. His body slammed against wall, as the heart fell from his blood soaked fingers. Despite Dorian's actions, the man was still visibly conscious. With a groan, the stranger slowly got his feet, a hand pointed towards the Imperial.

 

He began muttering in a foreign tongue, his eyes glowing with fury.

 

Yet he was not able to finish his incantation.

 

A chilled blast of ice hit him squarely in the chest, spreading through the rest of his body until every part of him froze solid.

 

“Ackley?” Dorian asked, as he turned to his friend. A faint wisp of frost still lingered on the younger mage’s hand.

 

“Are you safe Dorian?” The brown haired man asked, as the ice around the stranger dissipated, his corpse falling to the floor with a thud.

 

"Yes," Dorian nodded. “...Why did he call you his liege, Ackley?”

 

“I’m not certain,” Ackley frowned. “I’ve never seen him before,”

 

“So it appears our killer was an utter lunatic after all,” The Imperial mused, staring at the corpse.

 

The silver dagger lay on the floor.

 

The brown haired man knelt down to look at the relic. _‘Why did he say this was_ my _dagger_ _,_ _and what did he mean by it being a fragment of my memories?’_ The mage drew in a deep breath before he hesitantly wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the blade.

 

_Ackley found himself transported to a balcony high upon a tower. It was snowing and a woman stood before him a short distance away. Tears stained her eyes as she stared at him. The silver dagger lay in one hand, pointed at her chest. “_ _…_ _Goodbye my love,_ _”_ _The woman whispered, before plunging the blade inside of her._ _“_ _NO!!!!!!_ _”_ _Ackley heard himself shout as his feet rushed towards her. He arrived only in time to catch her falling body._ _“_... _My love_ _..._ _”_ _He sobbed as he held her limping body in his arms._

 

“Ackley!” Dorian’s voice came, as the brown haired man felt his friend’s firm hands shaking him free from the vision.

 

“Are you alright?! Speak to me!”

 

“…I’m fine,” Ackley managed to form the words in a hoarse tone.

 

“You don’t look fine,”

 

“It’s nothing,” The mage forced a false smile.

 

"Perhaps we should get you some fresh air," Dorian responded. "The others should learn of what took place here,"

 

*****

 

The trees swayed gently in the cool night breeze on the Palace grounds as Ackley watched from one of the balconies. Dorian had insisted that the younger man remain outside whilst he spoke to the other War Council members of what had transpired. Whilst Ackley didn't want to leave the burden to his friend, the mage's light-headedness got the better of him, and he had to concede.

 

Sounds of jubilation still echoed from the Grand Ballroom behind him, yet the young mage was lost in thought. The dagger’s effects had faded, even when he touched it again, and yet the vision still burned in his mind. Was it a memory of his? Surely not...

 

The presence of the mage in the treasury chamber also bothered him. The Tevinter were always a proud people. What would possess such a man to kneel before him? Why was he so deathly afraid of him...?

 

“Inquisitor!” a voice interrupted.

 

The mage turned to see a blonde man striding towards him, the intensity burning in his eyes matched each strident step he took. Silvery fabric adorned his body, giving the illusion of light steel. It was the mask however, dyed in the shade of Templar purple, that gave away the man’s persona.

 

“Cullen,” Ackley greeted, anxious about the stern expression on the other man’s face.

 

“I heard you discovered a blood mage in the Palace,” The Commander said. “Why did you not seek me for aid?” 

 

“I had Dorian with me,”

 

“Dorian isn’t a Templar,”

 

“I’m fine Cullen,” Ackley gave a reassuring smile. “You know I’ve dealt with things that were far worse than this,”

 

The blonde’s expression softened, but his eyes remained fixed on the mage's. “I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to you and I was standing idly by,”

 

“I’m sure your usual band of admirers would’ve missed your presence,” Ackley grinned.

 

“Y-You know they’re only interested in me because of my title,” Cullen replied in embarrassment. “Besides, you’ve also had your fair share of suitors this evening,” The blonde chuckled. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to be rid of me,”

 

“Be rid of you?” Ackley repeated. “Cullen, the only thing I'd sought since we left one another was to spend further time with you,”

 

“I uh…I’m sorry I kept my distance,” Cullen responded sheepishly. “I-I thought that perhaps I was too forward with my affections. I didn’t want to lose you,”

 

“I said I loved you, remember?”

 

“So you did,” The blonde gave the mage a hearty smile. “So does this mean you’ll consider me as one of your suitors?”

 

“Cullen…” Ackley felt his cheeks flush at the Commander’s words.

 

“I suppose if I’m to have any chance to win your heart, it shall be through some grand, romantic gesture,” Cullen mused. “A dance then perhaps?” The blonde asked, as he reached out a hand.

 

“I thought you didn’t care for dancing?”

 

“I’ll make an exception on this occasion,”

 

Ackley hesitated for a second, but chose to humour the blonde and took his open invitation. Once his hand touched Cullen’s, the latter clasped it tightly, pulling him in close whilst his other arm wrapped itself around the mage’s waist.

 

“...We’re not moving Commander,” Ackley said in slight confusion as they stood there in one another’s arms.

 

“I’m afraid this is the only dance I know,” Cullen responded sensually, before he gave a light chuckle. “I must confess, I was envious of all those suitors that surrounded you this evening. I didn’t want any of them to have you. I was prepared to duel the victor if needed,”

 

“Jealousy isn’t advisable for a Templar, Cullen,” Ackley pointed out playfully.

 

“Neither is falling for a mage,” Cullen replied as he gently pressed his lips against Ackley’s. The soft, tender lips of his mage was what the blonde had been missing since their night together. Cullen pressed their bodies close, eager to feel the heat of Ackley against him. Whatever fears he had of the brown haired man getting hurt was now being released in his passion. The taste of Ackley drove him mad, and yet he forced himself to be gentle with the man who had stolen his heart.

 

As their kiss came to an end, Ackley could hear Cullen’s sharp breaths as they stared at one another under the glow of the moonlight.

 

“I love you Ackley,” Cullen whispered.

 

“I love you too Cullen,” Ackley smiled, before he swiftly pulled the blonde in for another kiss. Cullen was taken aback by the younger man’s boldness, but the second kiss tasted just as sweet as the first. The blonde could tell he was grinning stupidly but he didn’t care. Ackley was finally his. 

 

*****

 

“It appears the Ice King has found his true love after all,” Leliana smiled, as she watched her two male Council members kissing one another.

 

“I knew the Commander had it in him _eventually_ ,” Dorian beamed, watching from another window beside her.

 

“Now that will be a sovereign please Dorian,”

 

“That is hardly fair!” Dorian cried. “Josephine told me that you knew Cullen and Ackley had bedded one another a few nights ago!”

 

“That is irrelevant,”

 

“How is that irrelevant?! Ackley was always going to choose Cullen,”

 

“You backed the wrong suitor Dorian, it’s really that simple,”

 

“Very well,” The Imperial sighed, before handing over a gold piece to the lay sister.

 

Despite losing the bet, Dorian couldn’t help but feel elated for Ackley. The lad had finally found the happiness he'd always sought.


	8. Strength

Work in Progress!


End file.
